


The Creeper Chronicles

by tigerkat16



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerkat16/pseuds/tigerkat16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter is a complete creeper, Stiles falls for him anyways, and life is good. Sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CreeperWolf

All Stiles wanted to do after practice with Scott was jerk off, shower and sleep. That’s it. Is that really too much for him to ask for? Hell, he’d even be willing to combine jerking off and showering if it was needed. But apparently, it is way too much to ask for because Peter fucking Hale was sitting in his desk chair like he belonged there. He most certainly did not belong there, or anywhere that was in at least a mile radius of Stiles.  
  
“Get out.” Was Stiles scared shitless? You bet your sweet ass he was. Was he going to let Peter know that? You can bet your sweet ass he was not. “Get out or I’m calling Derek to come retrieve your crazy, undead ass.” Ass was Stiles’s word of the day today, yesterday was potato because that is what Scott is. A loveable potato. Wait, Peter was laughing. This was not OK for Stiles. Stiles was being serious.  
  
“Take a shower, Stiles.” Oh, fuck. Peter was so totally going to go all creeper wolf, and hide in the bathroom while Stiles showers and fucking watch. “I promise to sit here like a good little wolf.” Fucking mind reader as well as a creeper. Could this night get any better?  
  
“No, nu huh, no way. I am not going anywhere until you leave. I’ll call my dad, the Sheriff.” Another fucking laugh? Stiles was aware that he was hilarious most of the time, but this was serious Stiles time.  
  
“What do you think your father could actually do to me, Stiles, before I hurt him?” Oh, no he didn’t. He did not just threaten Stiles’s dad. That shit does not fly here.  
  
“Leave, before I decide to light your furry ass on fire again.” Stiles mother fucking growled. No one fucks with his dad, not if Stiles had something to say about it. Peter held his hands up in surrender before slinking out the window. Stiles was unaware that slinking was in fact a movement that could be made outside of books. He shook his head, grabbed his phone and scrolled down his contacts till SourWolf was highlighted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes a week of Peter showing up nightly in Stiles’s room just to sit there till Stiles kicked him out for Stiles to start actually talking to Peter like he talks to everyone else. Derek said Peter wasn’t likely to try to hurt Stiles or his dad, and Derek was more comfortable knowing where Peter was. So Stiles tolerated his presence in his bedroom.  
  
“And that is why Firefly should never have been canceled.” Stiles wrapped up his rant about only the best TV show ever with a satisfied nod to himself as he scrolled through random Wikipedia articles.  
  
“Shiny.” One word was all it took to blow Stiles’s mind away. He spun his chair to face the bed where Peter was sitting. Peter with a smile on his face. Not a crazy, I’m-plotting-to-kill-everyone smile, not a smirk that was ever present on his face, but an honest to god smile. Not a big one, but a small one with just a hint of teeth showing. Is it a law that all Hales had to be ridiculously good looking? “What? I did have a TV before the fire, Stiles.” And there was the Peter that Stiles knew. The sassy one. The one that treated everyone like they’re an idiot.  
  
“You should smile more.” Brain-to-mouth filter? What is that? Don’t ask Stiles, he wouldn’t know. “It, uh, makes you seem less like a homicidal maniac.” Smooth, Stiles, smooth. That pause was only an awkward 15 seconds of panic, and shit, what was it that Scott said about being able to smell emotions?  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Peter was chuckling, what the actual fuck? Who was this man in front of Stiles? The rest of the night was passed with awkward silences and somewhat easy conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude, every time I see you, you smell like Peter.” Seriously, DopeyWolf, it’s been almost of month of nightly visits from Peter and you’re just now pointing it out? Stiles has only tried to talk to Scott about it every day.  
  
“Really, Scott? I didn’t notice the creeper and his nightly visits to my bedroom for the past 27 days without your oh so handy observation.” Stiles was allowed to be annoyed. Alison had broken up with Scott; Scott was supposed to not be this bad anymore. Fucking potato. Stiles would also like to point out that he was not in fact, counting the days that Peter had been in his room. He certainly wasn’t count the 20 days that they had their extremely tentative friendship going. Not. At. All.  
  
“What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?” Cue face palm.  
  
“I did, if you’d had listened, you’d know.” But Scott didn’t listen; he was too busy with pining over his lost love of Alison and being best bros with Isaac who certainly was not Stiles who is actually Scott’s best friend. Stiles was not bitter, regardless of what Peter might imply. “Besides, Derek wants Peter where he can keep an eye on him to make sure he isn’t off killing virgins or something.” That’s a lie. Stiles has totally been enjoying his time with Peter when Peter isn’t crazy.  
  
“That’s disgusting. Werewolves don’t kill virgins.” Cue the second face palm of the night.  
  
“Out of everything I just said, that’s the bit you have a problem with?” Stiles sometimes can’t believe his friend is this slow.  
  
“Peter seems better. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a manipulative asshole, but he seems…I don’t know, better.” What is Isaac doing here? This was best friend night, not best friend and that one kid who is stealing his best friend night. Stiles is not bitter. At all. “Derek is still pissed that Peter is doing it though. Like, using his Alpha voice to get Peter to not go during the day.” BambiWolf is totally scared of Derek’s Alpha voice. Stiles wouldn’t actually mind have Peter over during the day. It isn’t like he’s doing any-oh holy hell, his life!  
  
“Whatever, I gotta go. Dad is probably picking out the greasiest thing he can find for dinner.” At least Scott looks slightly disappointed that Stiles is leaving. Peter is better company anyways, he actually listens. And holy god, what is his life even?


	2. Monster

Seriously, what the fuck? Derek has been literally tearing up all the research that Stiles did for him. Stiles spent days trying to regain some information that was in the books long lost to the fire. Some of it was even important to hopefully beating the Alpacas. Which Derek definitely hated when Stiles called the alpha pack that. Whatever, Derek can deal with him calling them that.  
  
Without warning, Derek spun to face Stiles. Ok, so maybe the shredding of paper should’ve been a warning. Derek’s eyes were beating bright red, claws were extended. Stiles was sure that if they didn’t make it hard to talk, his canines would be out as well. “What are you even doing here, Stiles?” Like Derek didn’t just rip all his research about the different types of wolfsbane to shreds. Stiles knows that information wasn’t in the bestiary or in Peter’s laptop. He doubled checked, definitely not as a way to spend more time Peter. Nope, nu huh, not at all. Eventually Stiles will stop lying to himself. Today is not eventually though.  
  
“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m here to give information we didn’t have previously that could actually help your furry asses in many different ways at various times.” That was probably not the best thing for Stiles to say to a pissed off alpha, but he never could control his mouth. Ever. He blames ADHD.  
  
“We don’t need you.” That hit Stiles like a ton of bricks. “You aren’t a wolf. You are just a pathetic human who is too stupid to not be around werewolves.” What the hell had he done to piss Derek off this bad? Stiles can’t think of anything besides hanging out with Peter, but Derek had cleared that. Hell, he even encouraged it to happen.  
  
“But I’m pack, you said so yourself.” Stiles knows as soon as the words leave his mouth what Derek is going to say. He knows exactly what to say that will hurt Stiles the most.  
  
“You were a ploy to get Scott. Now that I have him, I don’t need you. The only one who wants you here is the monster that killed my sister. You are not pack, Stiles.” Yep, there goes Stiles’s heart. It’s not like he’s invested almost everything he has into Derek’s pack or anything.  
  
Peter is still in Stiles’s desk chair, typing at his laptop when Stiles gets back. “Well, don’t you smell like flowers and sunshine.” Sarcasm, great, just what he doesn’t need.  
  
“Derek kicked me out of the pack.” It comes out weak, pathetic, and with a healthy dose bitter. Peter turns to look at him before smirking and snorting.  
  
“He kicks me out every other day; I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Stiles just nods. He’s pretty sure that this is permanent. “You aren’t whatever he said you are, Stiles. I wouldn’t be here if you were.” Stiles is pretty sure that was supposed to be a compliment. He takes it for reassurance.  
  
“This coming from the CreeperWolf.” Stiles jokes. Jokes don’t hurt.  
  
   
  
Next person up to rip Stiles to shreds was Scott. Which doesn’t make sense to Stiles because while Scott is in Derek’s pack, he is barely in it. So he has no reason to go along with Derek’s declaration. Yet Scott is at the beginning of the vast majority of things in Stiles’s life, most of them good. However, this is not one of the things that turned out awesome. This one sucks, not as bad as losing his mom, but it’s pretty bad.  
  
“Do you really think it’s smart to keep doing this with Peter? I mean, the guy is a monster.” Stiles rolled his eyes at DopeyWolf. If it wasn’t Alison or the barely there, chaotic mass that was their pack, it was questioning Stiles’s choice to be friends with Peter. Really, they weren’t solid friends. Tentative friends more like it. So Stiles will sit up all night talking with Peter, and watching movies with him. He does that all the time with Scott. Like tonight, it’s Bro night. Stay up all night playing video games and watching movies.  
  
“A little trust in me would be nice, dude.” Seriously, they’ve only been best friends since forever. When has Stiles ever not been there for Scott? Unlike certain werewolves who hangs up on Stiles when he needs them the most.  
  
“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Yes, please, stick with all the clichés. No one can ever get enough of them. “He killed his own niece for power, Stiles.” That would be a valid point were it not for Peter already talking to him about it.  
  
“I know, but Peter’s already explained it to me.”  
  
“Stiles, think about what you just said. You’re forgiving someone who killed who knows how many people simply because he explained it to you.” Scott knows that Stiles hates being interrupted, it makes him more fidgety than normal if he doesn’t finish his thought. And it’s rude.  
  
“Dude, interrupt much? And yeah, I didn’t say I forgave him. Just that I understand it.” Stiles huffed, slouching further down his couch. “Besides, you tried to kill me on your first full moon. How is it much different?”  
  
“It’s totally different.” Uncle-niece, brother-brother. Yeah, Stiles isn’t seeing how it is that much different either, except for the obvious that Stiles is still alive. “Whatever, I need to go pick up Alison and Isaac to go bowling.” Scott was out the door before Stiles could say another word. Which is fine, Stiles hadn’t really hung out with Scott since the beginning of summer, but it’s fine. He’s only feeling like he’s losing his best friend. Fuck. Stiles grabbed his phone.  
  
“Scott bailed again, didn’t he?” See? Peter answers his phone whenever Stiles calls him. He can’t be that bad of a guy. “I’ll be over soon.” Not a monster.

   
“Stiles, we can’t keep doing this.” Stiles stared at Erica like she was insane. They most certainly could keep watching crappy werewolf movies. It’s their thing.  
  
“But it’s crappy werewolf night. We still have like, five more to go through till we can switch to some other terrible horror movie genre.” Erica shook her head, turning on the couch to face Stiles full on.  
  
“No, not that. We can’t hang out anymore.” It was Stiles’s turn to shake his head. This was not happening. First Scott, now Erica. Nope, nu huh, just plain no.  
  
“But you’re my Catwoman.” This is all Derek’s fault. He probably told them not to be around Stiles anymore. “It’s because of Derek, isn’t it? You know you don’t have to do everything he says. Just the really important bits.” Yeah, ‘cause you can totally undermine your ex-alpha while supporting him in the same breath.  
  
“Yeah, partially. But I can’t have my Batman hanging around with Two Face.” Erica stood up and started to walk out. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Yeah, that’s not actually worth anything to Stiles at the moment. So far he’s lost two friends, might as well say three since where Erica goes Boyd goes, and an alpha because of Peter. Maybe he really is a monster.  
  
Not 20 minutes later, Peter was crawling through Stiles’s window. “Thought you could use some company.” As Peter’s only explanation for his appearance. Maybe the others just can’t see that Peter isn’t a monster. Maybe they don’t want to see that.

Stiles got almost a whole month of having Lydia as a friend. She is an awesome friend, Jackson doesn’t deserve her. But he has her, and Stiles has accepted that. The line has been drawn and he’s willing to respect that. He lets Lydia boss him around, force him into watching The Notebook at least 15 times (Peter gets a kick out of that, Stiles barely liked it the first time she made him watch it. Now, he loathes it), and take him shopping. Everything. It was fun, but then it wasn’t.  
  
“Stiles, we need to talk.” Stiles didn’t think anything of it. Lydia says that when she has a problem with anything. They always need to talk. Talk about Stiles’s fashion choices, and how dirty the Jeep is, how Lydia’s hair isn’t doing what she wants it to, and how she broke a nail. Always need to talk. Still, Stiles closes his book and looks at her so she knows that she has his undivided attention. “It’s about your taste in friends.” No, not Lydia too.  
  
“I know Peter isn’t anyone’s first choice in friends, but he really isn’t that bad of a guy once you to know him.” Stiles defends Peter. He’s getting sick of having to defend Peter.  
  
“I’m sure he could be, but he isn’t. You didn’t have him inside your head. Forcing you to do things, making you hallucinate.” He knows what Peter did, he’s even made it clear to Peter that he would never forgive Peter for what he did to Lydia. Even if it brought Peter to Stiles. “He has no humanity, Stiles.”  
  
Stiles shakes his head, frowning. “He’s gotten better, Lydia. I know you aren’t willing to see it, but he isn’t who he used to be.” He is better, right? It isn’t just around Stiles that he’s not crazy. Lydia just sighs, standing up from Stiles’s dining table.  
  
“I’m sorry, Stiles.” No, she’s not. She’s not sorry about this at all. “I can’t be friends with someone who is willing to defend a monster.” No, Peter is not a monster. Is he? Stiles keeps replaying everything he knows about Peter in his mind till the man-wolf himself shows up that night.  
  
   
  
So maybe Peter isn’t the best choice as a person to be friends with. Stiles is willing to acknowledge this. He’s manipulative, crazy, homicidal, he came back from the fucking dead. That last one alone should be enough for Stiles to just say no. Dead things need to stay dead. There is also no reason for Peter to be friends with Stiles. Absolutely none. The age difference alone is enough for most people to not even attempt to be friends. So Stiles is pretty sure this is all just some game of Peter’s to try and alleviate the crushing boredom that he feels. Like “let’s see how many friends I can cost Stiles before he loses his shit” kind of game.  
  
“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Of course he’d pick up on that. He’s probably just watching, waiting till Stiles feels vulnerable enough to let him in before he betrays Stiles. “You can’t hide things from a werewolf, Stiles.” Peter chuckles softly, nudging Stiles gently with his shoulder.  
  
“Right, you can smell emotions.” Stiles mumbles. Which is true, and Peter is probably getting all HD quality scents with how they’re sitting. On Stiles’s bed, their backs to his headboard, pressed together from shoulders down to their feet. Peter even has one of his feet hooked over Stiles’s ankle so the insides of their feet are pressed together, like it could keep Stiles on the bed. Peter is probably choosing to be so close so that he could find his most opportune moment to strike.  
  
“That, and getting you to talk tonight has been like skipping through a meadow of wolfsbane.” Peter’s smile is small and absolutely fake. Stiles knows him enough by to tell when he is actually smiling and when he’s doing it because it’s appropriate. He’s probably even faking the concern bleeding into his voice. “Stiles, is this about Derek?” There it is. The slight growl in his voice that lets Stiles know that what he’s dealing with isn’t human, but a monster. Scott was right. Lydia was right. Everyone was right about Peter.  
  
“You should go.” Stiles voice was not wobbly. It was strong, if a bit on the quiet side. Someday, Stiles will, at the very least, get better at lying to himself.  
  
“Stiles.” No, there is no pleading note to Peter’s voice. Peter is a monster. He doesn’t actually care for Stiles. He is only using Stiles as a way to occupy himself while there isn’t anything exciting happening to the town.  
  
“Please.” Go, don’t do this to me, leave. Stiles isn’t sure what he’s saying please to, just that he is, and Peter is listening. He gets up, grabs his coat from the back of Stiles’s desk chair before heading to the window.  
  
“Good night, Stiles.” With that, he leaves. Shutting Stiles’s window gently behind him. Peter always listened to Stiles. Peter was a monster.

   
“I’m sorry.” It was murmured like a secret. Stiles turned his head away from his notes to look at Isaac. Isaac was biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands.  
  
“It’s fine, Bambi. Get back to reading. Harris is a dick when it comes to tests.” Harris is a dick when it comes to anything. Stiles couldn’t think of a single person who would honestly disagree with him. Jackson would, but Jackson is a douche.  
  
“No, it isn’t. I don’t know why Derek did it, but he shouldn’t have.” Isaac had his kicked puppy eyes going. Stiles hated kicked puppy eyes, they were worse than normal puppy eyes. They meant Isaac was hurting. “I should’ve done something.”  
  
“There was nothing to do. He’s right about everything. I’m serious about that reading though.” Stiles was pack mom for a reason. He looks after everyone in the pack. The silence between them stretched on for a few more minutes. “You’re about to leave, aren’t you?” Isaac nodded hesitantly, he didn’t want to leave. He had to leave. Stiles understood this. “Ok, just remember to eat three times a day. Healthy food, not that fast food crap. And remember to take a snack when you go to training. You are always starving afterwards.” Just because he wasn’t pack, didn’t mean he stopped caring about them. For Stiles, that would be close to impossible.  
  
“I will. I’m sorry.” Isaac packed his things and left the library. Stiles stared blankly at his notes till the bell rang for the next class. When he got home, there was a new iPod waiting for him on his bed. Which was good, Stiles guessed, since Isaac still had his.  
  
Boyd let out a loud sigh as he sat down across from Stiles at the lunch table. “Derek fucked up kicking you out of the pack.” Stiles looked up at Boyd. He hadn’t expected this out of him. He expected to be ignored all together, or even actively abused if one would prefer the Jackson route.  
  
“And why do you think that?” Because Derek outlined some pretty specific reasons on how Stiles wasn’t pack. There really isn’t any room for debate here.  
  
“Because the only thing that gets done there without you is training.” Stiles raised a very skeptical eyebrow at this. Boyd just sighs again. “Scott never knows what’s going on, Erica is flat out refusing to talk to Derek unless it’s to insult him, Isaac isn’t taking care of himself, and Peter...We’re pretty sure if Derek doesn’t put him down soon, he’ll kill Derek in his sleep.” Peter the monster. It doesn’t matter what Peter is doing. Or the others. Stiles is still a shitty liar to himself. Besides, Peter wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t actually want to see any more of his family dead.  
  
“I’m sensing a but here.” It’s inevitable. Boyd will leave him like the others.  
  
“Orders are orders, and we can’t afford to pull another stunt like that.” Stiles expected this. He’s just surprised that Boyd lasted this long before fallowing Erica. He just nods his head and looks back down at his barely eaten lunch. Boyd gets up and joins them across the cafeteria.  
  
The next morning brings a new phone, still in the box, on his desk. Not like he’ll need it though. Everyone has left him.

Stiles is pretty sure his bed is the only good thing in his life. It’s warm, it’s comfy, it doesn’t kick you out of the pack, or bail on hanging out with you, or be a monster, or have no trust in you whatsoever. To be fair, he did kind of deserve that last one with his dad. Not his bed, he has never lied and snuck behind his bed’s back. Stiles isn’t suicidal. He wants to make that as clear a day that he does not want himself dead. He just doesn’t want to leave his bed either. Anything beyond the edge can go fuck a duck. He waved when all the fucks he had once given went flying out the window. So now, he just dozes in his bed unless there is school or practice. However, it being three in the morning, there is neither and it is a totally accepted time to be in his bed not giving a fuck and to be sleeping. Which he is no longer, thanks to the clink of something being put on his desk. Stiles forces his eyes to open, staring blankly at what appears to be a frozen Peter standing next to his desk. All he can manage to do is to roll over so his back is to Peter and just…lay there. He doesn’t have the energy or the willpower to do anything else. Not anymore. He doesn’t flinch at the sounds of rustling fabric or of shoes being taken off. He doesn’t so much as move a muscle as the bed dips under the weight of another body. He does tense up when arms wrap around him and he gets pulled so his back is to Peter’s chest.  
  
Stiles may start to let out two months of pent up depression and hurt when Peter whispers, “It’s ok to think I’m a monster. Just so long as I can have you, you can think whatever you want.” That’s when it hits Stiles. He’s let the pack convince him that the one person who has yet to abandon him is a monster. Someone to be feared and hated. That someone who has been leaving gifts for Stiles, all after a fight with one of his ex-packmates. The same someone who is curled so tightly around Stiles that he’s pretty sure that soon, Stiles won’t know where he ends and Peter begins. Peter was there when the others left him. The others abandoned him practically the second Derek kicked him out of the pack. Stiles turned his head into his pillow, trying to stifle his crying. Peter bringing him impossibly closer, whispering things that he thought were soothing to Stiles. Things like, “I’m not pack either.”  
  
“I’m sorry I thought-“  
  
“Stop it.” Peter’s words are harsh, angry sounding against Stiles’s ear. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Stiles does though. He thought all the wrong things about Peter. Peter was not a monster. Not anymore at least. He wasn’t who he used to be before he died. Which is a weird sentence to think. Peter would disagree with Stiles about him not being a monster. It’s all Peter remembers how to be.


	3. Now Kiss

                “Dude, it’s been like five minutes since you left. What could you have possibly forgotten?” Stiles didn’t bother turning away from his laptop. He has an essay due tomorrow and there was only one person who ever came through his window anymore.

            “Expecting someone else?” Stiles flailed a bit while spinning around to face Isaac. Who looked a bit amused and extremely sheepish with his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets and a small smile on his face. “Sorry, I texted you but never got a response.”

            Stiles chuckled, “I got a new phone. Still trying to figure it all out. Which is slightly embarrassing since I’ve had it for a couple of weeks.” Isaac tilted his head. Stiles is pretty sure both he and Scott were actual puppies tromping around in teenage werewolf costumes. “Dad and Peter prefer to call rather than text. So I haven’t really mastered the message part yet. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought Derek said you guys couldn’t hang out with me anymore.” Now Stiles felt guilty, Isaac had his kicked puppy look again.

            “He did, but I-” Isaac trailed off, biting his lip and shifting his weight. Almost like he didn’t want to tell Stiles what happened. So, logically Stiles leapt to the worst possible scenario.

            “Did he kick you out of the pack too? Because he has no reason to do that. I’ll go down there right now and kick his furry ass eight ways till Sunday for that. He has no right to kick you out. You stuck by him when every other wolf left.”

            “Like how Peter stuck by you?” It wasn’t an accusation, just curiosity. Like Isaac really just wanted to know if that’s what Peter was doing all this time. “Anyways, Derek didn’t kick me out of the pack. I told him while he could say who was and wasn’t pack, he couldn’t tell us who to hang out with.” Stiles was stunned. Isaac didn’t usually have the balls required to stand up to his alpha. That was usually Scott’s, Stiles’s, or Peter’s jobs.

            “Oh wow, I didn’t expect you to be the first one to stand up to him.” Which sounds like a bad thing to say. “Not that I don’t expect you to stand up to Derek, just thought that Erica, or Scott would be the first ones.”

            It was Isaac’s turn to laugh softly, “I wasn’t. Peter was. I’m pretty sure it was that night you were kicked out that Peter and Derek first started fighting about what Derek did.” This…doesn’t actually surprise Stiles. More like affirms that he should feel really guilty for shoving Peter away and thinking terrible things about him. Which he does, more than he can say and he can say a lot.

            “Yeah, he did.” Stiles finally answered Isaac’s earlier question quietly. Almost like it still shocked Stiles that Peter had done that.

            “You trust him?” Stiles is pretty sure if Isaac’s head tilted any further, his neck would break. “He’s never done anything to me directly, but I’ve heard what he did before Derek killed him.” Stiles can hear what Isaac isn’t saying though. He’s asking if he should give Peter a chance.

            “I do. Not as much as I could, but I still do trust him.” Isaac nods, satisfied with Stiles’s answer. “So, you hungry, Bambi?” Isaac’s nod is a bit more enthusiastic this time. Stiles grabs his keys and wallet and follows Isaac out. They go through the front door this time.

~~~~~~~~

            “Dude, what’s wrong?” Stiles rolls onto his side to face Peter where he sat in Stiles’s desk chair. Which is how he knows something is wrong with Peter. Peter only ever sits away from Stiles if he’s upset about something or they’re researching. Since they aren’t researching anything that only leaves one option.

            “Nothing is wrong, Stiles.” Uh huh, bullshit. Stiles swung his legs off the bed so he was sitting up and across from Peter. “Don’t act like an idiot.” Peter likes to throw insults and compliments in the same sentence. Stiles isn’t sure why.

            He places his hand on Peter’s knee, slowly rubbing his thumb in a small arc on Peter’s thigh. “I don’t care what you think of me, so long as you are.” Stiles can flirt and comfort in the same sentence. He likes to do it to Peter. He doesn’t know if Peter likes it, but he doesn’t push Stiles’s hand off his leg or glare at Stiles. So Stiles thinks Peter does like it. He hopes. “Tell me what’s going on in your head, Creeper.”

            Peter smiles. Not one of those stilted, fake ones that he does when he thinks it’s appropriate, but a small genuine one. “Nothing anymore, Stiles.” Peter also likes to say Stiles’s name a lot. Stiles doesn’t understand that either, but when Peter is still smiling for real and putting his hand on top of Stiles’s, Stiles can’t really bring himself to care.

            “Good, now get over here. You promised you would watch Buffy with me and I’m holding you to that promise.” Peter just snorts and slides off his shoes before laying down next to Stiles on the bed. Stiles full out grins at him, glad he’s decided to at least a little while longer.

~~~~~~~~

            “Holy shit!” Stiles flailed back as Erica jumped through his window. “What the hell is it with you guys and hating on the front door? It works just fine, much better seeing as how its purpose is to be an entry way into the house!” Erica just smirks at him, raising her eyebrows at his rant. “New rule, anyone who is not Peter has to use the door to get into my house.”

            “Like we’re really going to listen to that rule, especially if there is already an exception to it.” Stiles will give that one to her. He’s still going to try to get them to use the door though.

            “So what did I do now that made you come over?” So he’s still pissed about what happened, you can’t really blame the guy. They ditched him, he’s allowed to be angry with them.

            “I can’t really be Catwoman without a Batman.” She shrugged, sitting down on his bed. “Besides, Derek-”

            “Another new rule, no mentioning Derek to me unless it’s to insult him.” Stiles isn’t ready to forgive Derek. Not yet, at least. “And I’m not going to stop hanging out with Peter. I won’t ask you to be there when I’m with him, hell I’ll encourage you stay away when we’re hanging out, but I won’t leave him.” Erica looked like the cat who caught a canary, or the wolf who got the deer, he guesses.

            “You like him.” Teasing, playful. Yeah, Erica has come back to Stiles. “You want to date an old man.” Stiles shook his head with a fond smile towards Erica.

            “Yeah, I do.” Stiles froze, thinking about what just came out of his mouth. “Oh, fuck! I want to date Peter.” Erica gave him her best ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me’ look. “Shut up. Me big manly man, no in touch with feels.” Stiles crawled onto the bed next to Erica and grabbed his remote.

            “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, mom.” Erica snorted, settling in next to him and stealing the remote. Stiles just grinned at her and relaxed.

~~~~~~~~

            Stiles is feeling really good. Isaac and Erica are back in his life, he’s still not first line on the team but he at least isn’t at the bottom of the queue to fill in, and Peter and him have been getting closer. Speaking of which, there’s the Creeper himself.

            “Hey, Creeper. How’s it going?” Stiles flashes a grin at Peter before dropping his backpack next to his desk.

            “Forget something?” Stiles drops his grin at Peter’s tone, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to remember.

            “Oh, fuck. Shit, I’m so sorry, Peter. Isaac caught me before I got to my Jeep, and fuck. I am sorry. I swear I didn’t do this on purpose. There are very few occasions where I would ditch you on purpose. I’m sorry.” Stiles bit his lip to stem his word vomit. He couldn’t fucking believe himself right now. How could he forget Peter?

            “It’s fine.” Obviously it wasn’t if Peter had yet to venture further into Stiles’s room or to say his name. Stiles actually likes when Peter says his name, it makes him feel important to someone.

            “No, Peter, it’s not. You were smart enough not to leave me alone even when I asked you to, I should remember when I agree to meet up with you at the very least.” Stiles takes a couple steps towards Peter reaching out and grabbing a hold of his wrist as Peter turns to the window. “Fuck, that didn’t come out like I wanted it to. I mean you crawling through my window is my favorite part of the day regardless of what happened before, and you’re holding my hand.” Sure enough, sometime during Stiles’s speech Peter had slipped his wrist out of Stiles’s hand only to twine their fingers together.

            “Very astute observation, Stiles.” Peter was smirking amused at Stiles who tightened his grip on Peter’s hand. “Now that you have it, will you give it back?” Psh, like Stiles was the one who initiated the hand holding. He’s onto Peter’s tricks.

            “No, now come on.” Stiles gently tugged on Peter’s hand while he walked towards his door. “I’ll make you dinner.” Yeah, he wants to date Peter. This doesn’t scare him as much as it probably should.

~~~~~~~~

            “Stiles, wake up.” Stiles groaned pitifully at Scott before squirming around to face Peter and attempting to burrow his way underneath Peter. He’s somewhat successful, he’s got his face hidden and a portion of his body. Peter just holds him tighter and tries not to laugh. “Dude, it’s already weird that you’re friends with that monster, I don’t need to see you cuddling with him.” Stiles isn’t sure Peter was wearing a shirt. He was wearing one when he came to bed at ass o’clock from doing fuck knows what last night.

            “No monster.” Stiles rubbed his face against Peter to confirm his suspicions. “No shirt.” Stiles may want to try to see if Peter was wearing any pants and if so, if he could convince Peter to take them off.

            “We had an entire conversation last night about proper sleep attire, Stiles.” He remembers no such thing. All he can remember about last night was being happy Peter was there because he hadn’t seen him in almost a week. So Stiles just grunts and makes another go at wedging himself more thoroughly beneath Peter.

            “Stiles!” Scott is annoyed. He doesn’t get to be annoyed, he has to be apologetic and grovel at Stiles’s feet to be forgiven. That’s only after he apologizes to Peter for calling him a monster.

            “Go wait downstairs, I’ll get him up.” Peter is contradicting himself. He says he’s waking Stiles up, but he’s also becoming a better werewolf blanket. So Stiles just hums and let’s himself drift off. “No, Stiles. It’s time to wake up.” No, no it’s not. It’s time for Peter to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep. It’s Saturday. Saturdays are for sleeping and being lazy.

            “Not a monster.” Stiles is adamant that Peter knows this. This shit is important. “I don’t let monsters in my bed.” Stiles desperately tries to cling to the last bit of sleep. He does not want to go down there and deal with Scott. He misses Scott, but that doesn’t mean dealing with him right now is something he wants to do.

            “I’ll make you a deal. Go talk to Scott, and if you’re still tired you can come back to bed.” This…sounds like something he’d do anyways. So, kind of like a shitty deal.

            “You’ll still be here?” Stiles doesn’t care if he sounds whiney. Peter being here is the only part of the deal that differs from normal, and he isn’t kidding about not having seen Peter in a week. He was pretty sure he was going to go in to Creeper withdrawals soon if Peter hadn’t shown up.

            “I won’t move from this bed.” Peter noses at Stiles’s hairline while he says this, which doesn’t help Stiles with the whole wanting to get up thing. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.” Oh, hello Peter’s lips brushing his forehead. Really not helping with getting up.

            “I won’t forgive you if you aren’t here when I get back.” Stiles doesn’t mean it, he just wants to have the last word. He somehow manages to work his way out of bed and sits at the edge of it as he surveys his room. Stiles looks over his shoulder at Peter who is on his side with both arms stretched out towards Stiles on the mattress. He reaches back and tangles his fingers with Peter’s. “This will be really short or really long.” Peter tightens his fingers around Stiles’s and raises an eyebrow. “Which you will be listening to the entire thing like the creeper you are.”

            “Nothing gets past you, Stiles.” Peter slips his hand out of Stiles’s and makes a shooing motion. “Put on a shirt and go down before he comes back up here. He’s already pacing towards the bottom of the stairs.”  Stiles spends another couple of moments just looking at Peter before nodding. He grabs the first shirt he sees, pulls it on, and goes down the stairs.

            “What do you want, Scott?” Scott just glares at him, which no, that’s not cool. “You don’t get to be mad here. You’re the one who kept bailing on me the second you got a girlfriend even when I needed you the most, you insult my,” Stiles pauses for a second trying to figure out what Peter was exactly. “Peter, then abandon me just because Derek kicked me out of the pack. Even after everything I did for you.” Stiles crossed his arms and held his ground as Scott fumed with rage.

            “First off, _your_ Peter? Did you forget that he tried to kill us or how pretty much none of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him? Also, I think you’re just jealous of me and Alison. You’ve been pissy ever since-”

            “Get out.” Stiles wasn’t kidding about not being up for dealing with Scott. Especially not at eight in the morning. “You can come back when you have calmed the fuck down and are willing to actually talk about everything.”

            “That’s what I came here to do, instead I find you in bed with a murderer and then you come down here _wearing his shirt_. How did you think I’d react?” Scott is growling now. Stiles is so sick of everyone growling when they’re mad.

            “He told you to leave.” Stiles jumps slightly at Peter’s voice, but didn’t turn around. He’s stuck between a pissed off werewolf and a very protective one. Not the best place for him to be. Scott lets out a louder growl before storming out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

            “You know I forgive you, right?” Stiles looks up at Peter standing on the stairs. He was not going to ogle the half-naked werewolf, he was not going to ogle the hot, half-naked werewolf standing on the stairs. He ogled at the extremely hot, half-naked werewolf on his stairs.

            “Here I thought you were never going to acquit me for leaving the bed.” That’s not what Stiles meant, and he knows that Peter knows that.

            “Why did you leave it? I know it wasn’t just to help me get rid of Scott, you could’ve done just as good of a job from it.” Stiles walked closer to Peter in vain hopes that he’d stop glancing down at Peter’s chest. It didn’t help, now he just keeps thinking about kissing Peter.

            Peter just looks really fucking amused. “Derek called, apparently my presence is needed back at the house.” Cue disgusted sneer. “So, I will, unfortunately, be needing my shirt back.” Stiles pouted until Peter’s words caught up to him.

            “Unfortunately, huh?” Peter hums thoughtfully as he reaches out for the hem of the shirt. Stiles loves it when there is blatant flirting.

            “It is my favorite look on you to date.” Stiles full out grins as Peter starts pushing the shirt up slowly, letting his fingers trail on Stiles’s skin. This causes Stiles breath to hitch and his heart to start racing.

            “You’ll just have to bring a spare next time.” Stiles lifts his arms up to let Peter take the shirt all the way off. Peter smirks before pulling his shirt on and walking towards the door.

            “I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and Stiles?” Peter turns, his hand on the door knob. “I lied, that’s my favorite look on you.” Stiles drops his gaze down to where his half hard dick was tenting his boxers slightly. He groaned as Peter just laughed on his way out the door.

~~~~~~~~

            “Man, what did you do to Scott?” Stiles isn’t actually all that surprised when Boyd joins Erica, Isaac, and him at lunch. He actually thought Boyd would be around sooner. “He’s acting like the most traumatized, depressed person on the planet.” Which is probably true. Scott hadn’t stopped trying to get Stiles to talk to him, he just stopped dropping by the house unannounced.

            “Nothing, I just pointed out his many failings at his station of best friend.” Stiles paused, taking a bite out of his pizza. “He may have also walked in on Peter and I sleeping and I may have went down to talk to him in nothing but my boxers and Peter’s shirt.” Erica and Boyd started laughing and Stiles smiled smugly.

            “Yeah, batman, you get that dirty old man.” Erica crooned while Isaac just groaned out an “I don’t need to hear this.” Stiles lets out a laugh, shaking his head at them.

            “First, Erica, stop calling Peter an old man. I don’t care how much older he is. Second, we aren’t doing anything. He just comes through my window very late at night and crawls into bed with me. Apparently we had a whole conversation about what is good to sleep in that night which I don’t remember. Totally alright with the end result though.” Which Stiles was. He’s only jerked off to it a ridiculous amount of times the past couple of days.

            “Which is completely weird since he has a perfectly nice bed back at the house.” Isaac points out, reminding Stiles that renovations on the Hale house had started not long after Derek had kicked him out of the pack. “You should come see it sometime.” Stiles had to give Isaac props for the smooth attempt at changing the subject. However, it was also too perfect of a set up.

            “See Peter’s nice bed? I’m down for that.” Isaac just groans, letting his head flop dramatically on the back of the chair. Erica starts laughing again as Boyd smiles and shakes his head at Stiles. “I don’t think I’m welcome, though.”

            “I’m more than certain you are welcomed in Peter’s bed.” Ok, so he walked into that one. Erica smiles playfully at him. Stiles really did miss this.

            “Derek wants to apologize and get you back in the pack, but doesn’t know how to go about it and Peter hasn’t exactly been the most forthcoming when it comes to things about you.” Stiles loves Boyd’s bluntness. He gives you all the information and doesn’t beat around the bush about it unlike the others. It’s a nice fucking change.

            “I won’t promise that I’ll do it, but I’ll at least think about going over.” Stiles was going to say that he wasn’t going to go over till Derek came to him, but Isaac’s god damn puppy eyes. They will be the death of him.

            “Meaning he’s going to discuss it with his boyfriend.” Erica teased as the bell rang. Stiles just smiled at the thought of being with Peter and being pack again as he split off from them to head to math. If he gets shoved into the lockers and called a fag on the way there, well that’s no one’s business but his own.

~~~~~~~~

            Stiles lasts all of five days before he’s driving up to the Hale house. Peter had called him asked for his help with something. Of course Stiles hadn’t refused. He’d been too busy having shitty school days and awesome hanging with pack time after school to be with Peter. He missed him. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked, they did. Peter even stooping as low as texting Stiles all throughout the day and calling him at night. Generally waking Stiles up, but Stiles only minded until he realized who was calling him. When Stiles finally got to the house, which looked beautiful on the outside at least, Derek was standing on the porch. Stiles just sighed, turning off the Jeep, and hopping out.

            “Derek, I’ve had a bad week, and I don’t want to fight with someone else.” Stiles was tired of it. Assholes at school were…well, assholes. They held the policy of its ok for Danny to be gay, but no one else. Which Stiles could sort of get. Everyone loves Danny, few people like Stiles. Status quo and all that.

            “I was wrong.” Stiles stares in shock at Derek. Not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. Ever. He waits quietly, waiting for Derek to continue. As usual, he sucks at communicating.

            “That requires an explanation, Sourwolf.” Stiles walks half way between his Jeep and the porch. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets when he stops.

            Derek huffs, rolling his eyes at Stiles. “Don’t be an idiot.” Stiles is immensely grateful for Boyd. Sweet, sweet Boyd and his ability to talk to people. “These are yours if you want them.” Derek holds out a set of keys to Stiles who starts to approach cautiously. He takes them just as hesitantly, almost laughing at the fact that they’re color coded. “Red is to the front door, blue to the back.” It clicks for Stiles then.

            “I’m going to need you to actually say the words, Derek.” Because he does, Stiles needs to hear the verbal confirmation from Derek. It won’t kill him to reassure his pack knows that they are pack.

            Derek just sighs, “You’re pack.” Stiles grins, jumping up the steps of the porch. “You try to hug me, I’ll rip your throat out.” Stiles just laughs and holds his arms out.

            “Ah, come on. Just one.” Before Derek can respond, Stiles is pushed back with the force of Peter’s hug. Which is good. Stiles would bet Derek was a shitty hugger anyways. His alpha just frowns at them and goes inside. Peter holds onto Stiles even tighter. “Hey, Creeper.” Stiles isn’t sure why he’s whispering, it just seems like that type of moment where you just hang on to the person in your arms and whisper. Peter presses his face into Stiles’s neck, breathing him in.

            “Tough week?” is murmured against his collar bone as Peter starts to drag his nose up and down Stiles’s neck. Stiles can’t help the sigh of contentment that escapes him.

            “Doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here and I’m pack again.” Peter draws back from Stiles, sending him one of his real smiles and yeah, Stiles’s heart might have melted a bit. “So what’d you need help with?” Stiles asks while trying to keep up with the pace Peter had set after breaking away from the hug.

            “Derek said he smelled something in the woods. You’re coming with me to find it.” So Stiles knew that Peter was still crazy, he just hadn’t realized that Peter had slipped back into full on insanity.

            “You are aware that I’m still human, right?” Stiles pauses at the edge of the woods, watching as Peter stops and turns around.

            “You really are the smartest of the bunch, aren’t you?” Stiles just smiles at Peter who rolls his eyes and continues moving through the trees. Stiles scrambles to follow him, trying his best to be quiet when he catches up. It lasts all of two minutes.

            “You like me.” Stiles keeps grinning towards Peter who shakes his head and keeps moving. “Hey, man, it’s alright to want to get all up on this.” He gestures with one hand down towards his body, trying to surpress his laughter and a wince as his abused back muscles pulled slightly. Peter stopped dead, staring hard at Stiles and sniffing. Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to pick the right thing to say next.

            “Where are you hurt, Stiles?” That was also one of the last things Stiles had expected to hear today. He wasn’t like he was purposefully hiding things from Peter. He just hadn’t gotten around to telling him about it yet. Apparently, Stiles was taking too long to answer seeing as how Peter just walked straight up to him and started running his hands over Stiles. Which would be hot except for the look of pure hatred and anger on Peter’s face.

            “They’re just some bruises on my back. It’s no big deal, Creeper.” Which was the wrong thing to say. Peter spun Stiles around and shoved up his shirts and hoodie to get a look at them. “Man, you know I bruise easy. This really isn’t that bad.” Also the wrong thing to say judging by the sudden appearance of Peter’s claws trailing gently over his skin. This also should not be such a turn on for him.

            “What happened?” Stiles just had to keep reminding himself that the anger isn’t directed towards him. It didn’t help when Peter’s still clawed hand came up to rest on the back of his neck. Stiles was like 87% Peter was not an actual threat. “You can’t lie to werewolves, Stiles.”

            Stiles took a minute full of deep breaths and trying to calm his heart before he reached up to grab Peter’s hand. He turned around, not once letting go of the hand he grabbed from the back of his neck, to be greeted with the glowing yellow eyes of Peter’s wolf. “I meant it when I said it isn’t that serious of a problem. If I can handle waking up and falling asleep with a werewolf in my bed, I can handle a few bullies.” Stiles internally sighed with relief when the yellow faded back to Peter’s blue.

            “You will tell me the second this gets worse.” Stiles just nodded and let Peter fix his shirts for him. Sometimes it was just better to withstand Peter’s fussing instead of protesting it. “Come on, we need to find something swampy.” Peter started walking again, not letting go of Stiles’s hand. Stiles wasn’t about to protest this either.

~~~~~~~~

            “You ready to talk about this like sane humans?” Stiles sat down across from Scott in the library. He was tired of fighting with his best friend. It sucked. Scott looked around the room. “We’re at school, Scott. Peter isn’t going to be here.”

            Some of the tension eased out of Scott’s shoulders. “I don’t see how you can even stand being around him. He’s creepy, and a killer.” Stiles just sighed. Of fucking course this would all lead back to Peter.

            “Because he keeps proving that he’s changed. He stayed when you guys left, and despite all my expectations that he’s going to leave, he doesn’t. He keeps coming through my window and I love it.” Stiles was pretty sure Scott knew just how much he loved it. “Man, I don’t want to lose you, but I want to see where whatever Peter and I have goes.” Scott shakes his head, giving Stiles puppy eyes that rival Isaac’s. However, Stiles is almost immune to Scott’s. He’s pretty sure it has to do with all the exposure he gets to them. “I’m not going to ask you with him too, dude. Just pretend that he’s still dead, and I’m having me time or something when he’s with me.” Scott just huffs some more, and they sit in silence. Which Stiles is more than fine with, he just wants Scott to stop being a bag of douches.

            “I can try.” Stiles beams at Scott. His mother fucking best friend is back! Stiles soon learns that Scott still sucks at school, so his free period is spent trying to tutor Scot instead of having lunch with Peter who is totally coo with it when Stiles tells him. By totally cool with it, Stiles means that Peter acts sketchy as fuck, but won’t tell Stiles what’s wrong when he asks. Another thing Stiles learns is that Scott is crazy good at keeping Stiles and Peter apart. Like, to the point where they only see each other to research the invading monster.

~~~~~~~~

            “Seriously, why did you feel the need to drag me all through that swamp? I wasn’t even aware that Beacon Hills had a swamp.” Stiles wasn’t even surprised by Peter leaning against his windowsill. He’s done it so often recently that Stiles has gotten into the habit of putting on at least boxers after his showers instead of walking out in just a towel. “Ugh, I scrubbed like, six times and I still feel like I’m drowning in muck.”

            “That explains why you look like a lobster, and you weren’t aware because it isn’t supposed to have one.” Peter is grumpy. This past week and some change he’s been grumpy, and won’t tell Stiles what has him upset. It fucking bother Stiles that Peter is like this. Mostly because he’s more like pre-death Peter, and it scares Stiles.

            “Are you ever going to tell me what crawled up your ass and died or are you just going to let me flounder along, wondering when you’re next killing spree will be?” So maybe Stiles isn’t the best person to try to talk with when he’s worried and scared. He gets defensive and sarcastic. Which really, only the defensive part is different than normal. “Oh, wait. You probably already plotting who to kill with all the fucking kids you’ve been beating up.” Which is not OK. It was probably not OK to say this either since Peter looks extremely pissed when Stiles turns around after giving up on finding a pair of clean sweats in his dresser.

            “Those people were hurting you.” Oh fuck. Growly voice is bad. Growly voice means Peter is thinking about hurting things around him and since Stiles is the only thing in the general vicinity, that is bad.

            “I can take care of myself, Peter. And just because they’re throwing insults my way doesn’t mean you can sink your claws into them.” Stiles leans a hip against the top of his dresser and tries to make himself look as non-threatening as possible. It causes Peter to flinch and growl.

            “I wouldn’t have to if the others would pay more attention.” Peter’s sneer when he said others enlightened Stiles a bit as to why Peter has been so grumpy and more inclined to dragging Stiles everywhere ‘in the name of research’ lately. He’s totally jealous about the pack taking up Stiles’s time.

            “What is it with you Hales and not being able to express what you’re feeling?” Stiles lets out a quiet laugh at Peter’s huff, moving away from the dresser to stand in front of Peter.

            “What is it with you-” Stiles interrupts Peter by cupping his face and brushing his lips softly against Peter’s. It was a barely a kiss, but it isn’t like Stiles has a whole lot of experience with this. Peter bumps his nose gently against Stiles’s before pressing his lips firmly to Stiles’s. Stiles refuses to admit that he let out a soft groan at the kiss. “Stiles.” So Peter can say Stiles’s name however many times he wants as long as it’s as low and breathy as that.

            “You have nothing to be jealous of, Creeper.” Stiles kissed Peter again, mostly because that shit is addictive. “You have safely secured your place as my favorite wolf. You did that a while ago.”

            Peter’s grin went for kid in a candy store to wolf in .06 seconds as he wrapped his arms around Stiles’s waist. “ _Mine_.” Yeah, OK, Stiles is totally down with being Peter’s.

            “Don’t think this gets you out of us talking about what is and is not OK for you to be clawing up.” Stiles slid his hands back into Peter’s hair, letting his fingers tangle slightly in the strands. “And, yeah, I’m your’s.” Peter lets out a happy rumble at that and pressed his face into Stiles’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it might be even longer until I post chapter four. It's being an asshole, and does not want to be written. Which it can suck my future dick, because it is going to be written sometime this month. If you guys want to bother me on my tumblr, its sirwolf-theconsultingsorcerer
> 
> Also, I fail at html.


	4. First Time

Stiles was sprawled on his bed, idly rubbing his hand up and down his stomach. He was bored and waiting for Peter to show up for the night. Which he was supposed to have been here like, eighteen minutes ago, but whatever. He’s a werewolf, Stiles is reasonably sure that Peter won’t get into too much trouble on the way here.  
“Stiles.” Stiles stills at the growl and slowly raises up so he’s leaning back on his elbow to look at Peter. Hungry is the only word that Stiles can come up with to match the look on Peter’s face as his eyes settle on where Stiles’s hand had stilled over his happy trail. That look had become steadily more present since they had started dating. Stiles loves that look on Peter’s face, he’d love it more if he could actually do something about it.  
“Peter, no. I’m still not legal, and I don’t want to have to help plan a jail break. I already did it once; I don’t want to do it again.” Stiles is trying to be good here. It’s just really hard when he has his boyfriend crawling up the bed between his legs.  
Peter just hums, “Stiles, if I may.” Stiles just rolls his eyes. He hates when Peter decides to argue with him. Mostly because Peter wins. Stiles just closes his eyes and nods. He also feels like he should be less surprised when Peter kisses him. Except it’s not gentle and sweet like most of his other kisses, its fucking filthy. He has teeth nipping on his bottom lip, and Peter’s tongue running across them. Really, Stiles doesn’t have anything that could beat this, so he opens for Peter and let his tongue fight with Peter’s. Peter groans into his mouth, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s going to do whatever it takes to hear that sound again. It doesn’t take long before Stiles has to practically wrench his head back from Peter’s just to get some much needed air. Peter starts along his jaw and down his neck, alternating between gentle bites and not so gentle kisses.  
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve had to wait for this?” Yeah, that argument Stiles had? Completely obliterated by this. His hips arch up when Peter sinks his teeth into Stiles’s pulse point. The bite isn’t hard enough to break skin, and holy fuck wolf teeth on his throat should not be this big of a turn on. Peter rolls his hip down onto Stiles’s, making both of them moan.  
“Peter, Creeper. Come on, man. I want-” Stiles is babbling and Peter was pulling away from his neck. Which no, not ok, so not ok. “I thought we talked about proper bed clothes.” He can feel Peter’s laugh against his neck before Peter sits up. Stiles licks his lips as he watches Peter strip off his shirt. He doesn’t even take his shirt off sexily, he does it as fast as he can without ripping the shirt. Stiles reached up and tugged Peter down as Peter let himself fall back on top of Stiles. One of Peter’s hands sneaked into the back of Stiles’s boxers, grabbing his ass and lifting up to press Stiles’s erection against his own. “Wait, Creeper, we can’t do this.” Stiles protested while he pushed his hips up harder against Peter.  
Peter freezes, pulling back slightly to stare at Stiles. “Are you saying that because you actually want to stop?” Stiles whines, rolling his hips in search of more friction. Peter growls and pins Stiles to the bed with his body. “Mixed signals, Stiles. Pick one.”  
“Don’t want you to get arrested or killed by my dad.” Stiles keeps up his wiggling, trying to get his hands to the fly of Peter’s pants. Peter chuckles before kissing Stiles and lifting his body enough for Stiles to open his pants. Stiles hums happily around Peter’s tongue as he pushes Peter’s pants down as far as he could get them. Kicking his pants off, Peter grinned into the kiss and started to tug down Stiles’s boxers. He brought one of his feet up to help push the shorts down and off once he got them down as far as they could go. “Creeper, one of us seriously overdressed. You get three guesses who it is. I’ll even give you a hint: it isn’t me.” Peter laughs breathlessly at Stiles and shimmies out of his briefs.  
“As you command, baby boy.” Stiles lets out a loud moan when Peter thrusts their cocks together. Stiles brought his nails up to Peter’s back and rakes them down, letting them bite into the skin a little as they go. Peter’s hips give in an involuntarily jerk before he lifts himself slightly away from Stiles, causing Stiles’s nails dig in deeper. Stiles claws at Peter’s upper back in an attempt to bring him back down, leaving thin bloody lines that healed right after they appeared. Peter lets out a loud growl, moving to bite down hard on the side of Stiles’s neck. “Lube, baby boy. Where is the lube?” Stiles reached an arm up to the shelves on his headboard, fumbling around for a few seconds before pulling out a slightly used tube. Peter eyes it before letting a smirk spread across his face. “Have you been naughty, baby boy?”  
Stiles nods jerkily as he presses the tube into Peter’s hand. “Thought about this, about you being in me, Creeper.” He leans up, pressing sloppy kisses to Peter’s jaw while Peter slicks his fingers. “Wished it was your fingers instead of mine stretching and going deep in me. Wished it was your cock pounding into me.” Peter lets out a low growl and slips a finger into Stiles’s hole.  
“Such a filthy mouth on you, baby boy” Peter starts thrusting his fingers in and out of Stiles. “Don’t you dare ever lose it.” He kisses Stiles, his tongue mimicking the movement of his hand. Peter pushes a second finger in, adding a slight scissoring motion to help the stretching. Stiles presses his hips hard against Peter’s hand when Peter adds a third finger, letting out a low groan at the slight burning sensation.  
“Now, Peter, I want you in me now.” Stiles is reasonably certain that he isn’t going to last very long. Hell, he’s surprised he has lasted to this point. Peter growls loudly, pulling his fingers out and slicking up his cock. He doesn’t even bother going slowly, just thrusting in until his balls are pressed against Stiles’s ass. Stiles bites his lip in effort to muffle his scream.  
“You’re fine, Stiles.” Stiles just nods, digging his fingers into Peter’s lower back to stop him from moving. Peter continues to whisper to Stiles and runs his hands wherever he can reach until Stiles relaxes his hold. Peter gives an experimental shallow thrust, doing more when Stiles lets out a sigh. It doesn’t take long for Stiles to start thrusting back into Peter, both letting out moans and growls. Peter wraps a hand around Stiles, jerking him in time with his thrusts. Stiles arches his back as he comes, calling out Peter’s name. Peter growls loudly, his thrusts becoming harder and faster as he races towards his own release.  
“That was awesome.” Stiles grins up at Peter as Peter pulls out and cleans them up with tissues. “I mean it, gay sex is the best.” Peter laughs at Stiles while maneuvering them so he’s spooning Stiles.  
“Your father is going to have a hard time thinking you’re not gay after this.” Peter nosed the back of Stiles neck, curling tighter around him.  
“Damn skippy.” Stiles mumbled sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. I apparently need to have a smut buddy to write this. Thanks to Marissa for the help.


	5. Fucking Witches

“Stiles, where are you?” That is most definitely Peter’s annoyed voice. Stiles is like, 98% sure of that. The other two percent want to go with homicidal voice.  
  
“I know I’m late. I’m sorry. Scott called and he needed a ride back to his house because his bike has a flat and after that I had to put gas in my jeep.” Stiles doesn’t see what the big deal about this is. This happens at least once a month to him where he has to go get Scott then get gas before heading to the Hale house.  
  
“Oh, glad you helped a pack member. Now you’re just standing out in the open with no one there to protect you while there’s a coven of witches out there who want one of the human pack member’s blood.” Annoyed, homicidal, and worried. Two out of three isn’t bad.  
  
“Don’t worry, Creeper. Its broad daylight at a public place, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything here. Besides, I’m almost done, so I’ll be over there in fifteen minutes tops.” Fuck, Peter is growling. Growling is bad, very very bad. “Hey, sorry dad shot you again.” Distraction, that’s the best way to get him to stop growling. Alright that’s a lie, the best way was for Stiles to drop to his knees in front of him, but the lack of physical presence made that hard.  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to finish.” Peter chuckled before dropping back to a slight growl. “Get here before Derek, and I’ll finish what I started.” Oh fuck, that was most definitely not the homicidal growl.  
  
“God damnit, gas pump. Go faster!” Who needs to do research for the pack? Certainly not Stiles. Stiles had to go get blown by his boyfriend.  
  
“Just get here soon, Stiles.” Peter hung up on Stiles. Stiles was too busy glaring at the pump and willing his dick not to get hard till he was closer to the Hale house. Too busy to notice that the witches were in fact stupid enough to try to get him here.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
Peter was pacing back and forth by the front door, pausing every time he was directly in front of the door to listen for sounds of the Jeep. Stiles wasn’t picking up his phone and hadn’t showed up. Peter’s wolf was getting increasingly agitated which made Peter more twitchy.  
  
“You need to calm down. There could be a million reasons why mom hasn’t shown up yet. It doesn’t mean they got him.” Peter growled at Isaac, not even pausing in his pacing to do it properly.  
  
“Yeah, they could be scheming to grab Alison or Lydia.” Erica sat on the stairs next to Isaac, sharing a worried look with him.  
  
“Alison is mated with Scott and is in a family of hunters. Lydia is immune and mated to Jackson. Stiles is their only choice, Sheriff’s son or no.” Twin glares shot towards Derek from the stairs and a loud growl came from Peter.  
  
“Not helping, Derek.” Isaac grits out before getting up and planting himself in Peter’s way. “If you’re so worried, let’s go find mom. He can’t be too far way.” Peter just nodded and walked out the front door. Isaac just sighed and followed him out after grabbing the keys to the Camaro. They drove all the way to the gas station at the edge of town with the windows cracked with no trace of Stiles till they reached the parking lot. Peter shifted once the smell of fresh blood and Stiles wafted in through the windows.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
Everything is fucking blurry, and Stiles is pretty sure that the world needs to stop all that damn spinning ASAP. He also decides that he will be extremely surprised if he somehow doesn’t have brain damage after this. He can feel the dried blood on the side of his face and shackles biting into his wrists. Of course he was wrong about the witches, of fucking course.  
  
“The chosen one has awoken.” Are you fucking kidding him right now? Who the hell talks like that?  
  
“You got the wrong person if you’re looking for a virgin. My boyfriend is hell bent on making sure I am at all times ready for his dick to enter my ass.” Stiles feels like virgin isn’t what they’re looking for, but that’s what everything ever says that they need for any kind of ritual. A virgin sacrifice. God mother fucking damnit, why can’t he remember what Peter told him that they were after? “Besides, did you have to hit me in the head? I’m pretty sure this is what pushes me into permanent damage zone.” Keep talking, delay them from whatever they’re trying to do. Peter will get here with the pack, and everything will be fine.  
  
“We hoped for virgin, but is not necessary.” Did she really just hiss on every ‘s’ in that sentence? Holy fuck, who the hell were these people. “Start the gathering.” Stiles’s panic notched up to an eleven as the witches started to pull things out of the cupboard.  
  
“No, no gathering. Gathering is bad. Talk, talking is good. Aren’t all villains supposed to have some sort of monologue prepared for before the slaughtering of innocents?” Stiles started to struggle harder against his bonds as they walked forward, one of them grabbing onto his arm and inserting a needle. “Ow, fuck. Stop. My pack is so going to kill all your asses. They’re going to tear you apart and my dad will burn whatever pieces of you he can find.” He watched as his blood-his fucking blood-traveled through a tube into a bag. He tried to kick out with his legs but couldn’t dislodge the witches from them. “At least tell me that that’s fucking sterile. I don’t want to survive this just to die in a hospital from fucking hep or something.” What he assumes is the leader just laughs at him.  
  
“You won’t have to worry.” Snake. That’s what she reminds Stiles of. Cold-blooded and calculating. At least pre-death Peter had some warmth to him. Stiles takes a second to thank his mom for hygienic witches. “You’ll be dead by full moon.” Then again, if Peter could hurry up, that’d be awesome.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
“I told you to let me guard him.” Peter announced as he finally returned from an unsuccessful attempt to track the witches by scent. They had taken Stiles. They had stolen from Peter. Stiles was his, and his alone.  
  
“Stiles had made it abundantly clear that he thought he could take care of himself.” Derek replied, not even looking up from his laptop. “Please, continue on about how I was foolish for taking his word.” Derek glanced over to where the rest of their pack was huddled in the doorway. Peter’s growls growing louder with each passing second. “Calm down, Uncle. I’m tracking his cell now.”  
  
“It won’t do you any good. We found it and his Jeep at a trail head parking lot.” Isaac offered up quietly. Peter was terrifying when it came to Stiles’s safety. “We tried to track them, but we couldn’t tell what was the true scent and what was magic.” Derek huffed, looking up at his betas.  
  
“Split into pairs and search the town for any trace of Stiles. Report immediately if you find something. And Scott, you go with Jackson. We can’t afford you to get distracted by Isaac or Alison.” Everyone nodded before heading out the front door. Derek stopped his uncle with a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him, soon.”  
~~~~~~~~  
Stiles tilted his head tiredly towards the ceiling. The witches had just finished drawing his blood for the fourth time in two days. “Hey, mom. You probably don’t like him, but I really need Peter right now. If possible, Peter and dad. Or just dad. Fuck, I don’t care who you send to save me, just so long as you send someone. I’m scared, and I can’t find a way out of this. Please, help them find me. I’m not ready to see you yet.” Stiles does the math in his head, assuming they’re taking a pint a day from him, he’s got two, maybe three if he’s lucky, more days for Peter to come get him. “I promise I’ll listen to them better when it comes to these kinds of things. Just help me get out of this.” He should’ve told Scott no and gone straight to the Hale house. He would probably be wrapped up in Peter, sleeping or helping with trying to find the hags that have him. Stiles drifts off to the memory of Peter’s arms and his soft, rumbling snores against the back of Stiles’s neck.  
~~~~~~~~  
“We’ve got it narrowed down to a few houses, but can’t get much more specific than that.” Peter barely acknowledged Lydia’s statement, too focused on the map they had laid out. “Derek, if they wanted his blood, he’s probably dead by now. We know where they’re going to do the ritual; I say we focus on setting up a trap.” Peter let out a growl, a reflex the past couple of days (50 hours and 23 minutes) when someone has mentioned that Stiles was most likely dead.  
  
“Until there is a body, we’re assuming he’s being kept alive somewhere. As long as he’s alive, we’re on search and rescue. We find a body, we go on a war path till every witch is dead.” Sometimes Peter is actually proud of Derek’s abilities as an alpha. This is one of those times.  
  
“They can’t kill him.” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Peter. “He’s their sacrifice, he can’t be killed till the ritual. They’ll bleed him to get the human blood they need and hold him near death until it’s time.”  
  
“Then we need to start scouring the houses right now. One of them has to be the one.” Scott is sometimes not a potato, but it’s a close thing.  
~~~~~~~~  
He’s dying. Stiles is chained to a wall in a windowless basement with a major concussion and blood loss, and he’s dying. He hopes that the pack will take care of his dad, and that Peter doesn’t go bad again. That’s it. Stiles thinks death would be a bit of a relief at this point. His legs keep slipping into the pile of vomit he keeps adding to when tries to move, his head is housing a jack hammer convention, everything hurts, the world is spinning, and he’s so alone. The others won’t make it in time to save him. All they’ll find is his cold corpse.  
  
“-iles, Stiles! Look at me!” Oh hey, there’s a hand lifting his head up. “For fucks sake, open your eyes. You can’t die on me!” huh, that’s what Peter’s desperate voice sounds like. Stiles manages to open his eyes to stare at a very frantic, exhausted Peter.  
  
“You came.” He’s dizzier than he was before, why is he dizzier? Stiles squirms around and Peter just tightens his hold on Stiles as he climbs the stairs.  
  
“I came, I killed, and if you stop fidgeting, I can take you to a hospital.” Stiles attempts a smile and shuts his eyes. “No, none of that Stiles. I don’t care how tired you are, you cannot fall asleep.” Peter holds Stiles closer to him as he slides into the passenger seat of the Camaro. Stiles grumbles but tries to obey Peter. The world keeps spinning faster, everything hurts more, but he’s with his pack and Peter is kissing him, so maybe he can stay awake a little longer. Which lasts for about a minute before he passes out.  
  
When Stiles does wake up, it’s a day later and Peter is sitting in the chair beside the bed with his fingers steepled in front of him. Like some sort of werewolf Sherlock. Stiles just groans and flops the hand not attached to an IV towards Peter who reaches out to take it in both of his.  
  
“Don’t you dare do that again. I don’t care if people are dying around you, if I tell you to do something when you’re in danger, you do it.” Stiles just nods weakly, watching as Peter brings his hand up and placing his nose against Stiles’s wrist. “Go back to sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”  
  
“’m not in danger.” Stiles slurs, trying to stay conscious. He still isn’t sure if this is real or not.  
  
“No, but you know I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Stiles has too many shredded clothes to attest to that. He rolls slightly onto his side to face Peter, and shuts his eyes.  
  
“Stay.” Peter bit the inside of his wrist gently, like a reprimand for being stupid. Stiles just lets out a soft groan of protest before dropping off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek is a giant asshat, and was extreme stressed and took it out on Stiles. Question answered.


	6. Bambi

            “Oh hey, a deer.” Was what Stiles had said. What Peter heard was “Oh hey, a deer. You should kill it.” So he did. With his claws, because Stiles has made a point that he was not going to ever kiss Peter when his mouth was bloody again. It was gross the first time even if Stiles was pretty sure Peter was dying. Peter hadn’t told Stiles that while numerous, the bullets didn’t have wolfsbane, so he would be fine. Mostly because he wanted to see what Stiles would do. Stiles did not disappoint.

            “Dude, what the fuck?” Stiles was horrified. Seeing Peter kill things did that to him. Peter did not kill cleanly. It was generally very bloody all over and was a bitch to clean up. Stiles never could figure out how he was the one to always get saddled with the bloody clothes. Just because he was pack mom did not mean he would do their laundry. He’d do dishes after pack meetings, but not laundry. “What the actual fuck, Peter?”

            “I killed it for you, Stiles.” Peter paused, looking thoughtful for a second. “Don’t call me dude.” He dropped the deer back to the ground about five feet away from Stiles. If Stiles hadn’t been so disgusted with him, he probably would’ve kissed that smug look off of Peter’s face.

            “Oh holy shit, that’s Bambi. You killed Bambi, why did you kill Bambi?” Stiles had a partial idea what Peter was trying to do based off of real wolves, but seriously. Peter killed Bambi, that was not OK. Stiles is pretty sure there is a rule about not killing things that aren’t trying to kill them. Like it was one of the conditions to the treaty they have with the hunters.

            “I did not kill Isaac. He’s a were _wolf_ , not a weredeer.” Peter rolled his eyes, stepping closer to Stiles. Stiles just sighed, prepping himself for another Talk with his boyfriend. He should probably be worried that he has to keep having Talks with Peter. Peter has to learn sometime, right? Right. Maybe. Hopefully he’ll learn eventually.

            “Creeper, I know what you’re trying to do with this.” Peter raised an eyebrow at Stiles, looking between him and the deer. “Killing adorable woodland creatures is not a good way to show me that you can provide for me.” Peter huffed at Stiles, narrowing his eyes slightly. Stiles will not kiss his now grumpy boyfriend. This is Talk time, not fun time.

            “I am not a creeper.” Oh Peter, thou doth protest too much. Stiles knows Peter loves it when he calls him that. “I’m a wolf, Stiles. This is how we do it.” Stiles is pretty sure out of all the positions that Peter has manhandled Stiles into, _killing a deer_ was not one of them. Oh god, now he’s thinking about sex with Peter. This is not helping Stiles’s concentration. Like at all. “Your Talk is not going to be near as effective if you keep thinking about sex.” Stiles is not blushing, fuck you very much. Peter is smirking. Of course he is, the smug bastard.

            “You might be one, but I’m not.” Stiles sighed heavily. Seriously, only he would want a boyfriend who you had to lecture. “You want to show you can provide for me, get a job, and live in somewhere that isn’t a burnt husk of a house or a warehouse or where the pack isn’t. Somewhere that I’m not scared that I’ll catch a disease or an infection just by walking in the front door or worry about scarring them when we have sex.” Derek has shitty tastes for where he should live. He has humans in his pack, he should know better.  “Normal human type things. Not killing things for me. Killing is bad, we’ve been over this.” And Peter is burying his face into Stiles’s neck. When did he get so close?

            “So you don’t want the deer?” Stiles laughed, tangling his fingers in Peter’s hair and wrapping his arm around Peter’s waist. Stiles doesn’t love Peter. Not yet, but he’s pretty sure he will.

            “No, Peter, I do not want the deer.” Stiles pressed a kiss to the side of Peter’s head. “I do, however, want you out of these bloody clothes. Preferably when we’re away from dead Bambi.” Peter shoved Stiles away from the carcass, just far enough away that he couldn’t see it. Peter also noticed that he got blood on Stiles’s clothes, and decided they needed to come off as well. Stiles was all for this plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that it's short. I did post this on tumblr a while ago. Also sorry that it's been so long. Writing has not been kind to me. Speaking of tumblr, you guys should come bother [me.](http://sirwolf-theconsultingsorcerer.tumblr.com)


	7. Sorry guys

So this isn't a chapter. It's me apologizing for not writing. The whole job hunt that I've been doing for what seems like years (It's been 3 months) has brought my entire life to a stand still, which includes my writing. So this is going on haitus until I either get a job or figure out what I want to go to school for or the in the more general sense, my life starts in a forward like motion. If you guys have questions, comments, or just feel like talking, I am on [tumblr](http://sirwolf-theconsultingsorcerer.tumblr.com/) a lot. Sorry for my lack of writing, you guys are the best.


	8. Babies

            “Dude, Penelope is the best girl name ever.” Stiles isn’t sure how they got from opposite sides of the room talking about his mythology class to snuggling on the couch talking about baby names, but here they are. On the couch. In each other’s arms. Talking about their hypothetical babies’ names. Yeah, he gave up trying to figure out what his life even is a while ago.

            “I think we should name her Rojin, after your mother.” Peter says it like that’s the real reason, but Stiles knows better. Peter hasn’t gotten away with that act in a long time. He just smiles softly at Stiles before gently bumping their noses together.

            “Yeah, no. I want my kids to have pronounceable names. I don’t care if they’re weird names, just so long as they’re pronounceable.” Which is true, Stiles hated having to correct every single person who tried to say his name. His name is an evil thing he will not curse his future hypothetical spawn with.

            “It’s a beautiful name with a good meaning, and will be a nice remembrance of her.” Of course Peter would research his mother’s name. That’s not creepy at all. They were valid points however, and while Stiles is all for paying respects, he is ready to move on with his life. All of these just point towards Peter being manipulative again.

            “You’re just tired of getting shot by my dad, aren’t you?” Peter winces then sighs dramatically. Stiles is totally right about this. He’d do a victory dance if he wasn’t so damn comfortable. As is it, he’ll settle for a smug look at Peter.

            “It’s getting expensive for me to keep playing live target for your father. It also hurts.” Stiles ran one of his hands down Peter’s side in comfort and sympathy. He isn’t that sympathetic to Peter’s plight, Peter deserved it most of the time. “Fine, we can name the girl Penelope if that’s what you really want.” So Peter is totally just placating him right now, but Stiles will take what he can god damn get.

            “Damn straight we’re naming her Penelope. Now for the boy I was thinking something Irish or Scottish sounding.” Stiles ponders this a moment, trying to come up with some examples. “Like Alistair, or Roland.” Peter chuckles quietly before pressing a kiss to the corner of Stiles’s mouth.

            “I feel like I should cut you off from TV for a while.” Like it wasn’t Peter’s fault that Stiles got hooked on that show in the first place.

            “No, seriously. Alistair is the name of a total badass. I want our boy to be a total badass werewolf. He’ll rip the throats out of all evil doers with his teeth then get all of the ladies.” Stiles pauses, furrowing his brow for a second. “Or all the dudes. Whatever floats his boat, that’s what he’ll get all of.” He nods like he just made the most irrefutable point ever. Because he did, Peter cannot have any arguments against this.

            “Marry me.” Stiles is pretty sure you can’t just demand someone to marry you. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. There was supposed to be a fancy dinner, or at least some semblance of romance, and a question.

            “I..uh..huh? What?” Stiles isn’t sure why he’s so surprised though. They’ve been dating for three years, living together for two. This is the next step as far as he can see. Going from boyfriends to husbands. Yes, husbands because fuck that life partner shit. Peter is going to be his mother fucking husband.

            “I know for a fact that you aren’t deaf, Stiles.” Peter gets snappy when he’s unsure. Stiles knows this, he also hates this. Peter shouldn’t doubt Stiles’s answer.

            “Yeah, ok. I’ll marry you.” Peter just grins, rolling them so Stiles is pinned underneath him. Stiles smiles up at Peter, tilting his head back to give Peter better access to his neck.

            “Good, because I wasn’t asking.” It was growled out against his throat. This just made Stiles roll his eyes because his wolf is absolutely ridiculous sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get back to. I do have the ending written up so I'll post it either after I get off work today or tomorrow.


End file.
